The Gift of Life
by mercurymari83
Summary: Quistis has a new life now, and she wants nothing to do with SeeD. But what happens when unexpected events force her to face her past? ~SEIFTIS~ Many twists to come, please R/R. ~*CHAPTER 7 "Impossible"*~
1. Reunion

The hospital wing was eerily silent as the pressed, white-uniformed nurse made her late-night rounds. Silently striding through the halls, she finally made it to room 201. Adjusting the stethoscope around her neck, she reached for the patient's file in the wall receptacle next to the door. Peeking inside, she saw that the little patient inside was fast asleep, and heard the slight beeps and whirs of machines. She quietly closed the door and continued down the hall, to the nurses' station. 

The nurse placed the file next to a pile of completed reports, and tossed her starched cap on top of it. She went into the back room and poured a steaming cup of coffee from the machine. Cream and sugar swirled in, and were blended in with a swizzle stick. Coffee: the late-shift nurse's best friend. She reached into a shoulder bag under the counter and unearthed a glasses case. She removed the wire-rimmed glasses and placed them upon her dainty nose.

She returned to the desk and opened the file she just retrieved. Subconsciously tucking a stray tuft of golden hair behind her ear, she signed her name at the bottom of the report:

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Quistis Trepe, RN.

She fumbled slightly while writing the title 'RN'. It still felt foreign to see her name with those two letters following; she was no longer an Instructor at Balamb Garden. The new Quistis is a nurse at the newly-built Deling City hospital.

She shook her head and continued transcribing the report. 

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Lily Tempest, aged 6. Kidney failure; has approximately 5 months to live. Is in desperate need of a donor. Vital stats stable…

Quistis paused and rubbed her bleary eyes. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 3:30 am. Almost time to punch out. _I better hurry out of here…_

A robust, red-haired woman peeked around the corner. The bland, white nurses' uniform served to contrast sharply against her cheery, matronly face. Despite the early hours, she seemed to have no bounds to her energy. "You still here, Quisty? It's almost time for you to skeedaddle on outta here!"

Quistis replied, "Hi, Daisy. I've only got this one report left to do, and I'll be done." She looked down and continued writing. Daisy promptly walked to Quistis' seat and ripped the pen from her hand.

"Why do you have to work so hard, Quisty? Take it easy some time—go to one o' them dance clubs or karaoke lounges… All work and no play makes Quisty a dull, dull girl. Now grab your things and get out," she said with a smile. "I'll finish this report for ya. Go on, outta here!" She chuckled as Quistis scampered from the desk into the back room. She came back out with a black overcoat on, clutching her shoulder bag. As she left, she called behind her, "Bye, Daisy! Oh, and I wouldn't think of going clubbing without you!"

Daisy cheerily said, "Bye, dear!" When Quistis disappeared around the corner, she shook her head and muttered to herself. "We need to get her a man."

»~~*~~«

Quistis waited outside the hospital for the bus. She pulled her coat tightly around her to shield her weary frame from the frigid gusts of air; this was a cold, cold night. "Come on, I wanna go home…" she whispered into the wind, hoping the bus would respond to her plea. White wisps of air swirled around her nose and mouth as she exhaled. 

But the white wisps stopped as she sucked her air in and held her breath. Someone just pressed something cold against the back of her head.

A burly man's voice slurred behind her, "Don't scream. Don't say a word. Hand over your purse, lady." 

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I'll do a lot more than that… she thought.

She threw herself onto the ground and started wheezing. When the man moved the gun slightly to look at her, she threw her leg out and it connected with his ankles. Just as she suspected, the man's inebriated form crashed to the hard pavement with a thud. She swiftly stood, and without breaking a sweat, kicked him between the legs, and kicked the gun away from his hand. "Good night," she taunted.

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There's one good thing about being a SeeD… Make that **former** SeeD…

Hearing the loud squeal of brakes, she saw the bus had arrived. But someone else had appeared at the bus stop. The doors opened and welcomed her them into the warm bus. He entered before her, and she slipped the 15 gil fare into the slot.

She looked up in time to see the man sit in her usual favorite spot, just behind the driver. As she walked past him, she noticed that he reeked of cigarette smoke and booze. Yet he showed no signs of being the least bit drunk. _He's probably the bartender of the bar that guy just came from…_ He also appeared to be about her age, 22 or so.

She sat across from him, rubbed her bleary eyes, and politely covered her mouth as a yawn came. The late-night hours and fighting took their toll on her; she was having trouble keeping awake on the warm bus. She blinked twice, and studied the man across from her. His gaze seemed to be fixed on a piece of ancient gum, eternally stuck to the middle of the bus floor.

He wore a black trenchcoat, and had pulled the collar up, as if to partially mask his face. Yet, it didn't hide his head of raven black hair. Though it was strange; when the dim bus light glinted off his hair, it seemed to have a golden tinge to it. He had intense emerald-green eyes, and they seemed troubled.

The man was powerfully built, and looked as if he could boot a rowdy customer out of a bar with no difficulty at all. He wore black gloves, and they served to cradle his head at the moment. He looked as if he had a hard night as well.

A faint crease wove across his face. It looked almost as if it were once a scar, but healed over time. _Just like—_

"It's rude to stare, ya know," the man said, in a rich baritone. His gaze was focused on her. 

Since his comment interrupted her trail of thought, she was caught off-guard. "Oh, I'm quite sorry," she stuttered. "I…I'm quite tired, is all." _Those mannerisms… He's just like…it can't be…_

"You didn't look it, back at the bus stop," he commented. "You'd think you were trained in combat or somethin'." He had a slight drawl, reminiscent of Irvine Kinneas' voice. Quistis blushed slightly. "Oh well… that was just…" she was interrupted with a jaw-splitting yawn. "Excuse me." 

"Well, that was some self-defense," he said.

"Um, thanks" she replied, stifling another yawn. "Quistis" she said, extending a hand. His black-leather gloved hand met hers, and he nodded.

The bus creaked to a stop, and the man quickly exited the bus. _How rude, he didn't even introduce himself…_

She looked out the bus window at the man, who was looking straight back at her. As the bus pulled away, she saw his face, now fully exposed. He watched her ride away, and gave her a smirk. 

That smirk.

Quistis gasped and stood abruptly. "Seifer!" she mouthed to the man. Her eyes narrowed as she saw his figure jounce with laughter. Their gaze met; shocked eyes clashed with taunting eyes.

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Seifer Almasy, of all people to run into at 4 am… How **wonderfully **ironic, we both escaped from our former lives, only to come to the very same place.

»~~*~~«

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A/N: So, tell me what you think! I've got lots in store for y'all, this is only the beginning. ^_~ 


	2. Barhopping Part I

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A/N: I really wasn't expecting such nice reviews on the first chapter—thanks!

»~~*~~«

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Quistis awoke at 3:30 PM, cursing the sunlight in her eyes. _Figures, there's one sliver of light in this room, and it hits me right in the eyes._

She yawned widely, and her stomach growled fiercely. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she stumbled out of bed to the kitchenette. She carefully measured the coffee and water, then put them into the trusty coffee maker. Used to this routine, Quistis next went to the small living room and checked her answering machine. To her surprise, there was a message; nobody usually called, except for bill collectors, or the occasional ex-Trepie.

The red light flashed, almost like a warning, as she pressed the little green button.

The machine beeped, and she heard her voice mail recording. She mouthed the words along with the recording.

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Hi, you've reached Quistis! Leave a short message along with your name and number, and I'll get back to you if I feel like it. Thanks!

The machine beeped again, and the caller's message played back. Quistis almost fell to the ground when she heard the voice.

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Um, Quistis? It's… Selphie. We've been looking for you after you left, and I still can't believe we found your number! Where to start… it's been so long, and so much has happened! We still want you to be part of it, even if you're not an Instructor any more. Well, we all miss you so much, Quisty. So if you want, give me or any of us a call; just call the Balamb Garden directory. Hope to talk to you soon. Bye.

BEEP

By this time, Quistis was sitting on the floor, dazed. _I never thought they'd be able to find me after I submitted my resignation to Cid…_ She slowly stood and looked at the big red number 1 on the machine. She positioned her finger over the DELETE button. She paused for a moment, thinking; and she slowly pulled back and walked back to the kitchen.

The delicious smell of coffee permeated the small apartment as Quistis fixed her breakfast. She quickly downed the orange juice, sausage, eggs, and toast. Clearing her flowered plated and silverware, she ventured back into the dark haven known as her bedroom. She flicked the light on and opened the mirrored closet doors. About twenty white nurse's outfits were lined up neatly on one side. 

On impulse, she opened the other side and found the clothes that represented the Quistis of the past. Several SeeD uniforms, neatly pressed and ready to wear, were hanging there, their gold lapels gleaming. Next to the uniforms were just about as many peach-colored battle outfits. She gently fingered the soft, flexible material, and tens of hundreds of combat memories flooded back to her. Shaking her head, she looked up and reached for a box at the top. Removing the cover, an old worn whip lay inside. Save the Queen. Its trusty handle and strong whip were ready for battle again, at any time. It was like an old friend, always there for her, to protect her. 

Shaking her head, she put the box back up at the top of her closet and closed the door on that part of her life. She never could make up a good reason for why she kept all her SeeD belongings…

Quistis took out a white nurse's uniform and began to get ready for work. She was due in by 6:30.

»~~*~~«

Standing in front of the mirror, she fixed her uniform and smiled at herself. But she didn't look like Quistis. She seemed slightly out of place in this uniform. It felt like maybe she should be wearing a different uniform… one that represented so much more than a thorough knowledge of the human anatomy and medicine. Shaking off this feeling, Quistis grabbed her coat and put it on; she then grabbed her shoulder bag and left for work a little early; she was going to make a little stop before work…

»~~*~~«

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Maybe it really wasn't him, despite that smirk, those eyes, that scar… No, Seifer ran away from the execution, there's no way he'd come to Deling, such a big city… Then again, with Seifer, absolutely **anything's** possible.

Quistis got off the bus, and stepped on the very same spot she was on earlier that day. The fight. She game a little chuckle as she thought of how easy it was. Turning the opposite way from the hospital, she went down a side street.

Checking her watch, it read 5 PM.

She found the entrance to her destination, and to her surprise, her heart was rapidly beating in her chest. _Don't be silly Quisty, it's just a bar… besides, who could be getting drunk at 5 PM?!_

She entered the smoky, dimly lighted environment and felt horribly out of place. Some grimy-looking men with ample beer bellies were eyeing her with curiosity. The loud, raucous shouts diminished to murmurs as she passed them. Despite this, she fixed a confident smirk on her face and strode in, as if she went barhopping in a white nurse's uniform all the time. Head held high, she caught sight of the bar. _I'll feel so foolish if he's not here…_

But something prevented her from reaching the counter. A woman blew some potent cigar smoke right into Quistis' face. The woman had bright red lipstick, blue eyeshadow, and a painted beauty mark on her face, and not much else on. Her face and rough, badly dyed hair were grimy, and when she smiled, it revealed rotted, yellow teeth. She was obviously a winner around here, several inebriated men were hanging all over her.  
"I'm so sorry, Princess!" she laughed in her face and hacked up some phlegm, causing Quistis to shrink back in disgust. "Aw look, the girl's a little lost! Why don't ya just run on home?!" This was seemingly hilarious to the group of them, they fell over each other in hysterics. Quistis merely looked at the woman with a serious look. 

Quistis promptly took the cigar from the woman's fingers, inspected it for a moment, and placed it into a nearby-unfinished glass of beer. She walked away, and left the group of them shocked and cussing.

She approached the counter and eyed an empty seat. She sat and looked up and down the counter. She finally eyed her target, refilling a martini order for an already drunk man, and simultaneously cutting off another man, who looked as if he were about to be sick, if he weren't already.

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Quistis, curiosity killed the cat… Looking around her surroundings, she felt she couldn't get any deeper in it than she already was. _Ah, better go for it…_

"Yo! You gonna make me wait all day, man?!" she shouted. She surprised herself, and everyone within earshot; she sounded like she'd frequented more than a few bars in her time. She masked her surprised expression with one she thought looked tough.

Seifer's brow creased, and she saw little sweat beads on his forehead. "Wanna wait a minute, lady? Keep your damn shirt on!" he looked up with an annoyed grimace. When he recognized the owner of the shout, his eyes widened and his mouth hung agape.

"Don't just stand there like a freakin' idiot, get me a screwdriver! Screw around on your own time!" Quistis said with a smirk. She was getting the feel for this thing.

Seifer ran to the other side of the counter and grabbed the vodka. He quickly mixed the drink and handed it to Quistis. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then got uncomfortable close to her. He whispered, "What the hell are you doing in here? You look like a damned idiot!"

She leaned in and said in just as intimidating a tone, "I believe I have every right to be here. After that little disappearing act you pulled, everyone's been looking for you. I can turn your ass in right now if I wanted. But I came back to see if it really _was_ you. Besides, can you blame me for wanting to 'check in' on my ex-favorite student?" She smirked at him, and put the emphasis on EX-student.

He narrowed his eyes at her and realized that he had met his match.

»~~*~~«

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A/N: WOW I absolutely _loved_ writing this chapter. =D *gasp* Quisty in a bar?! This is part one, this section is obviously pretty long. There's so much more to come, so HOLD ON!

Review please! I need feedback!


	3. Barhopping Part II

Seifer sneered at Quistis and quietly he inquired, "Come on, really. Why are you here? It doesn't look like you fit in here at all… And you would never have take the gall it takes to turn me in… _Instructor_." His green emeralds mocked her.

Quistis' blue sapphires glared right back at Seifer and she quickly retorted, "Though it's been a few years, I assure you, I haven't lost _any_ of my willpower. I could probably kick your ass if I really tried." Her eyes grew cold. It felt strange for her to be intimidating—well, _attempting_ to be intimidating. She felt quite out of character, being this harsh, in a bar of all places.

"But that's beside the point," she continued. "I'm sure Squall would love to get you back and carry out your execution. That 5 million gil reward is just what I need. But you can give me one good reason why I shouldn't board the next train to Balamb and report my information to Commander Squall. If it's valid, I pretend like I've not seen you since Ultimecia.

"You have until 6:15, Seifer. I'll just hang around until then." Checking the clock, she added, "That's 45 minutes. And you might want to actually use your brain on this one." She daintily slid off the stool, and left Seifer speechless for once. He frowned and cursed under his breath after she turned her back. He narrowed his eyes and finally chuckled, shaking his head.

She took her screwdriver and headed to the nearest vacant pool table. Placing her drink on the edge, she went to retrieve a pool cue from the wall. She came back and took a sip from her drink, and proceeded to chalk her pool cue.

Everyone looked on in fascination as the white-clad nurse carried on in her game of pool, as if it were the most common thing in the world. Apparently, it was all too much for one man, for he emerged from the shadows, clutching a beer glass. His knuckles were tattooed, and read "Butch"; he was a barrel-chested man with a beer gut, and arms the width of tree trunks.

He slithered up behind Quistis as she set up to break. When she pulled the cue back to strike the white ball, the end connected with the man's engorged stomach. She whirled around and found herself looking up to the man's cold, hard eyes. Her eyes widened and she meekly said, "Oh. Excuse me…"

Butch cracked his knuckles and he belched loudly. He quickly and expertly cracked his neck, she began to shrink back from both disgust and fright. He finally spoke in a gruff, deep tone.  
"I think it's time you left. Ain't nobody here to protect you, if anything should…happen." He held a menacing tone, and everyone looked on silently. 

Quistis stuttered, "Oh… well… I think I have as much right to be here as you."

The man grunted in reply, "No, you _obviously_ don't understand." He began to advance on her, pushing her into a wall. When her back was against the rack of pool cues, she involuntarily gave a little gasp. The man laughed heartily, and said, "I think I should _show_ you why it's not such a good idea to hang around here!" He reached back with his tattooed fist and his arm muscles bulged as he wound up. "Just sit still, Princess…" A split second later, his fist was barrelling toward Quistis' face.

Quistis' eyes widened, and she ducked at the precisely right time. The man's fist connected with the wooden pool cue rack, and continued on straight through the wall, leaving a gaping hole. 

He howled with pain and screamed, "Gah, you little BITCH!" He held up his fist, and it was pouring blood, and his knuckles no longer read "Butch." Bits of plaster and particleboard were embedded in his flesh. He bellowed, "FUCK! You fucking bitch, sit STILL!" 

Seifer jumped over the bar counter and threw his towel behind him. "Break it up!" he shouted. Drunken barmembers were panicking and running around, managing to block Seifer's way. He finally made his way over to Butch at precisely the wrong time.

Butch blindly swung his beer glass, and connected with someone's head. Unfortunately, it missed its intended target. Seifer bellowed in pain and clutched his head, while sinking down to the ground. He quickly lost consciousness; blood was quickly streaming down his face, and glass shards were everywhere.

Quistis screamed, and seemed to be frozen to her spot. But her quick thinking skills aquired from SeeD kicked in, and she decided to do something drastic.

She began to breathe heavily, and focus intensely. "STOP!" she screamed. Instantaneously, all action stopped; people were frozen in mid-step, and expressions were frozen mid-shout. Now that the pandemonium was temporarily stopped, she whispered, "Float." Seifer's body rose from the floor, and she did her best to guide him to the exit.

She frantically thought, _If anyone finds out that I had, never mind **used** those spells, I'll be locked away… I'm not a SeeD anymore, and civilians are forbidden from stocking and using magic._

Quistis grabbed a kerchief from her bag and pressed it on Seifer's head. "Cure," she whispered. The blood flow was temporarily halted, and he regained consciousness.   
He groaned and clutched his head again; bringing his hand over his eyes, he frowned. No blood stained his hands.  
"I cured you, but we have to hurry to the Hospital. The spell won't last long, and you need medical attention immediately," she said. Putting an arm around his waist, she steadied him. "Come on Seifer, now put an arm around my shoulders, we have to walk together."

He gave a lopsided smirk, and the dim light of the bar reflected off his jade eyes. She saw that his pupils were unevenly dilated. 

He spoke in a weak voice. "You get it any way you can, eh Instructor? Too bad you never got Puberty Boy…" he chuckled, and lost his balance, falling into her.   
They made their way to the door, and she opened it, letting frigid gusts of air in. Seifer shrank back, and Quistis saw that he wore a thin short-sleeved black shirt; his arms were completely exposed to the cold. "For Hyne's sake, Seifer!" She quickly unbuttoned her coat, thrust it over his shoulders, and put his arms in. Though a tight fit, it would have to do for now.

As the door closed behind them, Quistis heard the patrons inside beginning to cause trouble again; the Stop spell had worn off just in time.

They slowly made their way down the dark sidewalk to the hospital. Seifer's steps were hindered by his condition; he shuffled along, holding tightly to Quistis.

Quistis shuddered from the cold, and was relieved that the hospital was conveniently right around the corner. She had a firm grip on Seifer, and was sorry that the Float spell wore off so quickly. 

Many staccato steps were matched with smooth steps, and the hospital was finally looming over them, the bright white lights beckoning them in. When the Emergency Room doors were within reach, they quickly entered, and Quistis rushed to the nurse on duty. Surprisingly, the Emergency room was barren; no patients were there.

The Cure spell had worn off, and blood was beginning to run down Seifer's face, staining his forehead and cheeks crimson. The nurse looked at Seifer in shock, then back to Quistis, with an utterly perplexed look. Not every day did a huge man enter on the arm of a small nurse, wearing a woman's coat, pouring blood.

Nonetheless, she rushed Seifer and Quistis through the swinging doors.


	4. Pact

The Gift of Life, Chapter 4

»~~*~~«

Quistis returned home at the usual 4:30 am the following morning. Her mind was numb; her eyes were blurry, and she could barely make out the familiar shapes in her apartment. She carelessly let her soiled overcoat and shoulderbag tumble to the ground. With that, her legs failed her. From pure exhaustion, she collapsed in the threshold of her front door. Emotionally and physically speaking, the night had drained her.

Grasping the doorknob to regain her balance, she hoisted herself off the floor with some difficulty. Making sure to close and deadbolt the door first, she entered the bathroom. 

On any other night, she would have merely thrown herself onto the couch to sleep. But this night, she felt compelled to cleanse her body and mind.

In a daze, she carelessly strewed her clothes onto the bathroom floor. She then turned the cold silver knobs to release the hot water. Stepping in to the shower, she stood and let the water course over her. The droplets took remnants of Seifer's blood and bar smoke with them, swirling down the drain.

Yet, something was not right. Just as the water on her skin, Quistis' guilt washed over her soul. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. She wasn't ready to deal with all this. Why now? Things were going so well for her, and then it all came crashing down on her. 

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I knew I couldn't run from it forever. 

But why do I have to face it now? 

The wounds are still as fresh today as they were four years ago.

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I'm not ready.

But, like it or not, she was going to have to face it. Her past. Seifer's reappearance and the phone call from Selphie served her jar her back to her former life as a SeeD. One she had chosen not to face again.

Not to mention the horrible guilt she felt. It was **her** fault that Seifer was in the hospital. She knew full well that only trouble would ensue from her trip to the bar, yet she went anyway. 

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Why **did** I go?

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Face it, Quistis. Your curiosity and SeeD instinct made a horrible combination.

She still held strong ties to Seifer. He was her student, her childhood friend, and the one who nearly took her life. Seeing him again reminded he of the pain, guilt, and happiness he made her feel, throughout both their lives.

His multifarious persona attracted her closer, as well. Perhaps because she could identify with him, to an extent. They both had to run from their pasts.

Not to mention that Seifer knew one of her deepest secrets, as well; the fact that she, a civilian, stocked and used magic. It was an offense punishable by serious jail time. Not to mention she would most certainly lose her nursing degree, and all credibility she had earned.

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At all costs, I must keep this life I've made for myself.

Her tears stopped flowing as she turned the water off. She grabbed a towel and prepared to go to bed, and get some well-deserved sleep. Starting at 6 that night, she would be on duty for a long 15 hours.

»~~*~~«

"Room 200, Quis."

"Thanks, I'm heading over right now." She adjusted the white starched cap perched on her head, and took the clipboard. Grabbing a pen from the raised desktop, she proceeded down the hallway. With her free hand, she adjusted the stethoscope around her neck. Her posture was pole-straight, and her facial expression was bent into a smile, mainly to keep the children in high spirits. It betrayed nothing of what she really felt.

She opened the report and read what the Emergency Room nurse had scrawled. It was up to Quistis to finish the report and submit it. Since she carried him in and provided some information, the Medical Director obviously felt compelled to leave him under her watch.

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Tristan Lockheart, aged 22.

Quistis smirked slightly as she read over the name she submitted. It was quite fitting, in her opinion. There was no way she could have given them his real name. Especially since SeeD proclaimed the 10 million gil reward worldwide for Seifer's whereabouts.

At the end of the corridor was room 200, her destination. She rapped the door quickly before she opened the door and entered.

The television was on quietly, and his dinner tray was sitting next to his bed. The food was hardly touched. His eyes were dull and half-open, absently watching the sitcom actors.

Quistis was quite shaken to see Seifer in such a prone state. His skin looked so pale under the fluorescent lights; the white bandages wrapped around his head covered 27 stitches, and his face was swollen; quite frankly, she was surprised to see that he was awake, what with his concussion. His hands rested at his sides, in fists.

"It's rude to stare, ya know." 

She started; she hadn't expected him to speak at all, and his deep voice interrupted the low noise level in the room.

Obviously pained, Seifer twisted his mouth into his trademark smirk.

Quistis shook her head, and stepped up to the side of his bed. "Sorry to stare, Seifer. At least now we know you haven't lost any of your memory. But just to make sure, I'm going to conduct a couple tests, okay? I need to make sure you're coherent."

Seifer waved her on, slightly disinterested. 

"All right, let's proceed then." She took out some color and number cards from the clipboard, and used them to question him. He passed all tests; colors, numbers, dates, names.

"Excellent job, Seifer," she said, with a little smile.

"Does that mean I can get the hell out of here, then?" he asked.

Quistis shook her head. "There's no way we're sending you home yet. You've got 27 stitches up here," she said, gesturing to her head, "and we need to keep you here to monitor you."

Once again, the wave of guilt washed over Quistis.

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It's all my fault. I never should have interfered in Seifer's life.

She quickly shook it off, and turned back to Seifer. She rested the clipboard in her lap. "I have to tell you some important information, and you just remember it all, okay?"

"Fine by me," he said, and folded his arms across his broad chest.

"You're not Seifer Almasy anymore. In the Emergency Room, I submitted your name as Tristan Lockheart. You will answer to that from now on."  
  
Seifer frowned, and his muscles tensed. Unfolding his arms, he said, "Fine, Trepe. You gave me such a wimpy name… always have to have it your way… so how much is that SeeD reward for me, anyway?" he asked, obviously changing the subject.

It was Quistis' turn to tense. "10 million gil," she shortly replied, looking away from his eyes.

"Well, I should be glad that you're the only one who's recognized me so far."

She looked back at him, and his dull, tired eyes were looking directly at her. "As long as you won't go back and tell them all about it." 

A burning feeling clutched Quistis' insides, and her breath caught in her throat. _He thinks I'm going to turn him in? I spent all this time thinking about him, and he still thinks that I'll turn him in, like a cold, heartless monster?_

"I won't tell, Seifer. As long as you don't tell anyone my magic secret. Agreed?" she asked, and extended her hand dubiously.

Two years ago, Quistis never thought she'd see Seifer again, especially after his trial. Things have changed so much, all in the course of a couple days.

Seifer's eyes gleamed as he grasped her warm hand in his own cold hand, and shook. 

"Agreed."

And with that, their past, present, and future lives were held by the other, forever entwined. A secret pact, held by two people reunited against all odds.

»~~*~~«

A/N:I really hope **someone** reads this, seeing as it's been practically forever since my last update. Sorry about that, I'll try my best to keep somewhat steady updates from now on. ^_^ Hope you enjoyed, and please drop me a line to tell me how I'm doing! I want to keep everyone in character, so any constructive criticism would be highly appreciated.

Thanks.

~Mari~


	5. Orchids

The Gift of Life, Chapter 5

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As Quistis and Seifer's hands met, her heart fluttered. Never before had she been dependent on anyone. Now her life rested in the hands of Seifer, of all people. It was all quite ironic.

When she released his hand, a lazy smirk played across his lips. "Guess this means I can rest easy now." There was no hint of sarcasm in his tone; in fact, she could sense some gratitude, which took her somewhat aback. "Same here," she stuttered in response, with a small, awkward smile.

She stood, and checked the machines that monitored his vital stats. She made sure the clip on his index finger was secure, and checked the monitor behind him. His heartbeat was very irregular, which worried her. His blood pressure was also quite low. Her brow creased as she intently watched the humming machines. "Hmm… you've definitely got arrhythmia; that and a low blood pressure. Good thing we decided to admit you." She removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

Seifer mumbled something under his breath, and Quistis glanced over to him. "Excuse me-" Her comment was cut short when she noticed that Seifer was sound asleep. His visage was completely placid, and he occasionally mumbled incoherently.

Quistis sighed, and brought the sheets up over Seifer's upper body, up to his neck. "Good night, Tristan," she said. It felt foreign to call him that, but she would have to get used to it.

She turned the television off, and flipped the light switch, throwing the room into darkness. A beam of moonlight shined through the blinds, casting illumination over Seifer's scar. She began to walk away, but something compelled her to look back. 

_That face…_

It was the most peaceful she had ever seen him. His life had been a living Hell for so long, but one couldn't tell by looking at his serene sleeping form. Almost spellbound, she returned to Seifer's side, and poised her fingers over the scar on his forehead. Just before her fingertips contacted his skin, she pulled back. Without looking back, she exited the room.

»~~*~~«

After several more hours of rounds, and a few cups of coffee, Quistis was due to check back in on Seifer. She didn't mind the constant monitoring, though; in fact, she began to hum the same song from her previous encounter with him.

As before, she knocked on the door gently, then entered. "Tristan?" she quietly asked. In the scarce moonlight, shadows obscured her vision. But something wasn't right.

_Oh, Hyne._

_He's not here._

Closing the door behind her, she turned on the light, only to verify her observation. All that remained of him were the rumpled bedsheets. Quistis placed her hand on the bedspread. 

It was still warm.

_He couldn't have gotten far; I need to find him **now**!_

She rushed out of the room and shut the door behind her. There were so many twisted halls and corridors in this wing of the hospital alone, never mind the adjacent children's wing, or the floors below.

Suddenly, she saw a flutter of movement in her peripheral vision. Without thinking, she sprinted down the hall, in hot pursuit of the source of movement. As she rounded the corner, she picked up speed. 

She spotted the person directly in front of her, covered in shadows. "Hey!" she hissed. "Why aren't you in your room, Mr. Lockheart?"

"Goodness! Don't you go scarin' me like that, girl! And who is this… Mr. Lockheart?"

Quistis' smug smirk dissolved into a shocked expression, her mouth forming an o. Eyes wide, she covered her mouth with her hand and began to apologize profusely. "Oh, Daisy, I'm so sorry! I thought you were…" she stopped in mid-sentence. If Daisy found out that one of Quistis' patients escaped, she'd tell the entire floor of nurses, and they'd all give her a hard time; she didn't need any of her straitlaced coworkers to do her job for her.

"Never mind, I was just in a hurry. It won't happen again!" she said, with a nervous smile. 

Daisy stood in front of the young woman, her arms akimbo. She had a warm smile upon her face, and the crow's feet that graced the sides of her eyes crinkled; she chuckled and replied, "It's all right, Quistis. Just don't try to give me another heart attack, you hear?" Clapping her gently on the shoulder, Daisy turned around and continued on her own nightly rounds.

Quistis' raging heartbeat subsided at hearing Daisy's comforting tone of voice, but her stomach sank when she realized that Seifer was still missing.

She turned on her heel, straightened the nurse's cap upon her head, and continued from where she came from.

_You can run, but you can't hide from me, smartass…_ she thought, as she resumed a brisk pace down the hall.

»~~*~~«

Seifer smoothly sauntered down the hallway, away from that infernal hospital room. He just couldn't stand the harsh whiteness of the walls, and he absolutely despised the hospital smell. It reminded him of sickness, of death; he despised hospitals in general. The thought of being cooped up in a house of pain and disease was too much for him.

He passed by many doors; out of pure curiosity, he opened a few of them and peered inside. He took quick glimpses of the people each room held. In one room, there was an old woman; her steely gray hair was loose, framing her serene face as she slept. Grand bouquets of sunflowers surrounded her, and the television was on the prayer channel. In the next room held a man, about his age. There were many different machines and monitors connected to him through tiny wires and needles, embedded into his pale flesh. His brow was creased, and he tossed and turned in his sleep. 

Seifer continued to walk down the hallway, and turned a corner. This was a whole new corridor he had never seen, and there were two long corkboards along both sides of the wall. They were filled with colorful crayon drawings, filled with rainbows, puppies, suns, and wonderful things that children dream of.  
  
He had entered the children's wing. He walked along the wall, entranced by the simplistic, innocent pictures; they were like windows into each soul of each child here. Vibrant colors covered each drawing, but he soon came to a small gray patch of color. Curious, Seifer lifted the picture that concealed the rest of the gray. He revealed a drawing of a sad little girl in a dark room, surrounded by monstrous-sized machines. The girl was wearing a crooked smile, but fat gray tears were coursing down her cheeks. The entire picture was colored in shades of gray, except for a vase of flowers next to her; a brilliant purple arrangement of orchids sat next to her, on a table. She was pointing to the other side of the picture, where a dim window was drawn. The shades were pulled, and there were little gray birds flying outside.

The name at the bottom of the picture was Lily Tempest, age six, room 201.

And at the very end of the corridor, he saw a door with the number 201 emblazoned upon it.

»~~*~~«

Quistis' confident mood from before had diminished into one of disappointment and desperation. She had been all around almost every wing, looking for her missing patient. Out of desperation, she finally decided to check the one place she hadn't: the children's wing.

Striding silently down the hall, she approached the children's wing, and the rows of familiar illustrations by the pint-sized patients the hall housed. As she advanced, she noticed that one drawing had fluttered to the floor. She bent down, picked it up, and began to fasten it to the corkboard, to its rightful place.

But then her eyes met the gray, dismal scene of Lily Tempest's drawing. She looked at it for a moment, then put the drawing in her hands over another picture, leaving Lily's exposed. Realization had dawned upon her, and she hurried down the corridor.

Her destination: Room 201. 


	6. Acceptance

The Gift of Life, Chapter 6

"Acceptance"

»~~*~~«

Quistis paused in front of the door, finding it slightly ajar. Listening intently, she heard no noises from within the room, and silently pushed the door open.

Entering this room always gave Quistis mixed feelings. Lily Tempest was the sweetest, most vivacious little girl, and by far Quistis' favorite child patient. The child always wore a smile, despite of her hopeless situation; her time was nearing the end, but she never looked depressed. Judging by the picture she had seen, it seemed that Lily was fully aware of her failing health. For a six-year-old child, she seemed wise beyond her years. 

On many occasions, Quistis felt her voice catch in her throat while speaking with the girl. Lily had so many tubes and wires connected to her young, pale flesh that it was hard for Quistis not to cry at the sight. It seemed so unfair that this sweet little girl should be bound to the inside of this hospital room, while others her age were enjoying carefree existences out in the world. 

The bright moonlight poured in through the open window directly across from the girl's bed. It illuminated both the machines that perpetually surrounded her bed, and the vibrant purple petals of the orchids that surrounded her in vases. An ethereal feeling came over Quistis, as time seemed to freeze at that moment; she seemed rooted to the spot she stood in. She laid her eyes upon Lily's fragile sleeping form; the brown curls of her hair were splashed over her pale cheeks, and her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. She wore an utterly placid expression in her slumber. The only sounds in the room were the slight humming and beeping of the devices around her.

She averted her eyes, and they laid on Seifer.

He sat nonchalantly in the armchair beside her bed; the moonlight failed to illuminate his expressionless face, averted eyes, or his bandaged head, but rather the pink crease between his lifeless eyes was given a subtle illumination.

It was his souvenir of a troubled past; the unmistakable relic that he carried with him every day; his "reward" from Squall Leonhart four fated years ago.

He acquired it just before the most hellish experience of his life. His selfish decision that resulted in nothing but shame and defeat; his visage printed on every wanted poster around the world. A series of events that virtually destroyed him; Quistis had a hunch that if Squall, or anyone else for that matter, had undergone that experience, they would not have made it, as Seifer did. He seemed to be a shell of a man now, but at least he was alive. If he was _well_… that was another matter entirely.

He had a dead expression as he sat, and his cold green eyes were fixed upon the form of the sleeping girl.

Quistis didn't dare to disturb him; he looked so fragile, so vulnerable. But before she could think of what to say, he broke the silence.

"It isn't fair."

She noticed now that his eyes held a sparkle, that shined through the shadows of his face.

"I'm living a damned life, but at least I've been around the block. She hasn't even lived yet, and she's almost gone."

The last thing Quistis expected from Seifer was a statement like that. But the tone with which he used to speak, it cut right through her. His words rang through her head, echoing thoughts she herself had contemplated during the girl's long stay at the Deling City Hospital.

She opened her mouth to speak, but only a choked sob escaped. She covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes glistened with tears. She tried to compose herself, and after a moment, her insides burned with chagrin. She hated the fact that Seifer was witnessing a vulnerable side of her persona. She was somewhat ashamed that he knew one of her weaknesses: the painful lament she felt for the ill-fated child in front of her. As a nurse, she was not supposed to involve herself personally in the lives of patients. She was strictly to give health care to her patients, not to become emotionally attached, especially to terminal cases. 

But this was where the weak part of her was exposed. As her former career as a SeeD, she was sworn to do whatever necessary to follow orders and keep innocents safe; she could always make things better by taking action. This was different, though. It killed her, the fact that there was nothing she could do for the cherub-like girl. No amount of crying, searching, or desperate attempts to find a donor would save Lily from her fate.

It was so infuriating, yet so heart wrenching for Quistis. She had to accept Lily's fate. But she didn't know what to do; her anger, disappointment, and grief combined within her, leaving her heart to deal with civil war.

She cleared her throat and looked away. Swallowing hard, she managed to speak softly, her voice wavering only slightly.

"But… there's still hope. If she gets a donor in time—"

"Oh, come on," Seifer interrupted. "You're supposed to be a nurse, not a Hyne-damned idealist. Face the truth and stop lying to yourself." He paused a moment to let her fully comprehend what he was saying, then continued. "That was your problem when you were an Instructor. You knew there were problems with your style of teaching, yet you did nothing; you denied it, or refused to accept it until you took a fall. Why don't you stop fabricating lies for yourself and face reality for once? Lily's dying; she obviously knows and accepts it. Just look at the drawings that you cover with those of the other kids. Stop being selfish and think of her; be there for her during her last few months."

Quistis flinched and looked down as if he had just slapped her across the face. He mentioned her past failures, and his accusations cut into her, his words sharp as knives. Automatically, her lips formed into a snarl, and she clenched her teeth.   


__

No more, she thought. _I'm not a child, and I will not be talked to in such a disgraceful way._

  
"I think it's time for you to come with me—"

Her comment was cut short when she looked back up to Seifer. His eyes were slightly open, and his body was limp. A vein in his temple bulged slightly, and his chin looked rigid, as if he were clenching it shut. He looked exhausted, not just physically. Quistis suspected that there was something he wasn't telling her; something that made him react in such a way. There was just… something about him that concerned her; made her wonder what could have happened to him during his past four years in hiding.

"Come on," she said, in a softer tone. "Let's go back to your room now."

She looked over to Lily, who stirred slightly. She was amazed that the girl hadn't woken up during their conversation, but all the same, she needed her sleep; she wasn't going to get any if they remained in her room.

Quistis made her way to the chair Seifer sat in, and extended both her hands to him. Pursing his lips, Seifer took her hands into his, and she hoisted him up off the chair to a standing position. He leaned on her slightly as they made their way out of Lily's room.

»~~*~~«

Once again, the clock struck four o'clock, which marked the end of Quistis' shift that night. On her way out, Daisy stopped her.

"That patient o' yours, Lockheart is it?"

Quistis nodded in affirmation.

"Well, I just checked up on him. He's doin' just fine, we can release him this mornin'. I'm goin' to change his bandages after breakfast, an' he'll be free to go. Just figured you oughta know."

"Thanks a lot, Daisy, I appreciate it," responded Quistis. She turned to leave, but Daisy stopped her once again.

"Don't be so quick to leave," she said. "That's not all I wanted to tell you!"  
  
Quistis smiled and asked, "Well, what else do you need to tell me?"

Daisy, however, did not return the smile. She took a paper off the raised desktop next to her, looked down at it for a moment, and handed it to Quistis. Her face was dismal, and Quistis' smile faded. Quistis looked down at the paper, her brow creased with worry.

"You got a fax about ten minutes ago. From someone at Balamb Garden," Daisy said, her careworn face beginning to contort, threatening the onset of tears.

"Quistis, I'm so sorry."

»~~*~~«

A/N: *Gasp!* *Evil snicker* Indeed, a cliffhanger. WEEEE! It took me forever to write this chapter, I wanted to get all the dialogue and descriptions right. Hope I succeeded, and I hope you guys are enjoying the story.

Until next time, 

~Mari


	7. Impossible

The Gift of Life, Chapter 7

"Impossible"

»~~*~~«

Quistis took the letter, her hand shaking slightly. The older nurse, attempting to control herself, watched cautiously as the young woman read the fax. Her eyes welled with tears, and waited for the girl's reaction.

Quistis' concerned sapphire-blue eyes scanned the words imprinted on the page, trying to comprehend what they said. 

__

Impossible.

It couldn't be true.

Her eyes read the last few words on the page, and her eyes moved from the white paper to large, tear-filled brown eyes of Daisy. Her fingers unwillingly loosened their grip, and the paper fluttered to the ground. The cold black words stared back up at her, but she paid no mind. Her hands began to tremble, and her lower lip quivered.   
  
She began to breathe faster, her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she looked around in panic. _It couldn't be true, it just couldn't be._ The room began to spin, and she breathed faster and faster. Daisy's white form swirled into a blur, and Quistis forked her hands through her hair. Her pale, tense fingers pulled at her golden locks of hair, it was all happening too fast. 

__

Stop… 

She was too shocked to cry, she could only deny it all. "No…" was the only word her tight throat would let escape. Her insides burned, and her lungs and head felt surprisingly light. It was a substantial contrast to her heavy heart. Her mouth was dry as cotton, and the room kept spinning fast… faster, faster, faster still. She clamped her eyes shut, and began to shake her head. Nothing helped the spinning; the last thing she felt was the cool floor tiles against her cheek before she fell into blackness.

»~~*~~«

She awoke a couple minutes later, surrounded by cloudy, obscured figures clothed in white. For one wild, hazy moment, she believed she had died and gone to heaven; she was surrounded by angels. But as the figures began to take shape, she recognized them as her hospital coworkers, wearing visages full of concern.

She groaned slightly. The memories of what had just happened came back, her head ached, and she wanted everyone to know that she was awake. Her chest hurt a little, and she just wanted to go home and sleep it all away.

Someone held smelling salts underneath her nose, in an attempt to fully wake her up. The bitterly offensive smell caused her to tightly close her eyes, wrinkle her nose, and twist her head away from the source. "Oh!" she exclaimed. She gently pushed the hand away, and stood up. 

"Well, now that you're up, Quistis, we can send you home," Daisy said. The others nodded behind her, looking uncomfortable. They eyed her cautiously, as if they wanted to say something, but didn't dare to; some held a look of pity, others avoided her gaze.

Quistis knew at that point why they looked at her in such a manner; it was the same reason that they were letting her go. They knew what happened; the traumatic event was the cause of her collapse.

"Well, I'll just… go now…" she said vaguely. Now that she remembered what had happened, she turned to Daisy, and felt fresh tears begin to fight their way out; her throat began to burn, and she gulped. "Daisy, I'm going to have to take some… time off. There's something I have to do." 

Daisy carefully approached her, taking Quistis' delicate hand into her own careworn ones. Her gentle face was creased slightly more than usual, and it was obvious that Quistis' pain distressed her as well. The matronly woman attempted to put on a warm, yet sympathetic smile. "You take all the time you need, a'right honey? If you need anything, _anything_, you just call me, hear?" Taking her into a warm, comforting hug, she whispered, "You know you can come to me anytime you need to. I'll take care of everything over here."

Quistis hugged the woman, relieved that she didn't have to say anything more. She was grateful to have a co-worker… no, a _friend_, like her. The hot, salty tears began to trickle down her cheeks freely, and she sniffed lightly. She broke the embrace, gave a nod to Daisy, and left the hospital, walking quicker than normal.

»~~*~~«

No one gave her so much as a second glance as she walked the lonely way home. She never lifted her eyes from the hard, cold concrete below her.

Somehow, she made it home. 

But was it _really_ her home?

Or rather, a substitute? A poor excuse for a home she had had before, that this existence could not replace?

As she expected, Quistis found a new message on her answering machine, along with the old message from Selphie. She didn't even have to press that damned green button to know who was calling, at what time, and about whom. But, in a mechanical movement, she pressed it, and braced herself.

BEEP

__

Hi, you've reached Quistis! Leave a short message along with your name and number, and I'll get back to you if I feel like it. Thanks!

Quistis almost scoffed at how happy she sounded in the recording. What a lie.

What a Hyne-damned lie.

The machine beeped again, revealing and confirming Quistis' deepest fear. A hard lump formed in her stomach, and she suddenly felt sick.

It was obvious that the speaker had been crying, because the voice trembled, and wheezed slightly, from weeping so long and hard.

__

Quistis… it's… Rinoa. I'm so sorry to break into your new life like this, but I wanted you to know. If you haven't already gotten word, I have… devastating news. 

A few days ago, Squall went out on a mission to suppress an insurrection in the rebuilt Galbadia Missile Base. A deranged arsonist stationed himself there, and coordinating attacks in some sort of twisted demonstration; Balamb Garden felt Squall was the most qualified to go in to take care of the situation. He went in with SeeDs from both Trabia and Galbadia Gardens. Quistis… he never came back. I… can't talk about it any more than that. 

It would mean so much if you came back, Quistis. We all need to be together again, and we miss you terribly, especially now. We're all at Garden.

BEEP

But Quistis couldn't hear the last part of Rinoa's message. Hard, painful sobs racked her body. She cried harder than she ever had before in her life.

Squall Leonhart was gone.

She pressed her hands against her face and let her wails of grief out. She felt as if someone was sitting on her chest; it was tight, and it was hard to breathe through the sobs. She was afraid that she was going to vomit, she was crying so hard.

"Oh, Hyne!" she cried out, collapsing onto her side, letting the river of hot tears burn their way down her reddened countenance.

She cried for Squall. She cried for Rinoa Heartilly-Leonhart. She cried for the others who had to live through this loss, Selphie Tilmitt, Zell Dincht, Irvine Kinneas, Edea Kramer, President Laguna Loire…

She cried for the part of herself that died with Squall.

Quistis finally dragged herself from the floor, and stumbled slightly toward her bedroom, tears blurring her vision. From a mahogany box atop her dresser, she unearthed a hair clip. She undid the nurse's bun and released her golden tresses, so they flowed free. With one deft movement, her skilled fingers twisted her hair up into its fishtail, letting two sections of her hair fall loose to frame her face.

Sobbing, she removed her white starched nurse's uniform, letting it carelessly fall to the carpeted floor. She went to her closet, and opened it. At the very back was an array of clothes she hadn't worn in four long, agonizing years.

She pushed various dresses and outfits to the side, remembering words that Headmaster Cid Kramer had spoken to her after she resigned from Garden.

__

You'll always be a part of SeeD, Quistis. Any time you wish to return to your status, all you have to do is come back. 

She had never anticipated, in her wildest dreams, that these words would hold some value to her, as she donned the outfit she had been searching for.

With every button she buttoned, every fastening she carefully but skillfully clasped, memories came flooding back to her. But this time around, she welcomed them, instead of disposing them back into a corner of her mind, like trash.

She sat on her bed, and zipped up her old brown knee-high boots that had seen the demise of Ultimecia, when she was eighteen years old.

Lastly, she placed her gold-rimmed glasses onto her dainty nose, which was caressed by what seemed like thousands of tears by this time.

After avoiding her reflection the whole time in the full-length mirror, she pulled together the nerve to look at herself.

She gasped at what she saw; the mirror didn't show her Quistis Trepe, RN.

It reflected back Quistis Trepe, SeeD Rank A.

The gold buttons sparkled brilliantly, in contrast to the bright blue and green of the official SeeD uniform. The pristine uniform that distinguished her as a prized fighter, the medals that marked her as a valued hero. She felt like a whole new person. By simply donning this uniform that reflected her past life, she felt one again like the eighteen-year-old SeeD she had been.

When she looked at herself, she couldn't help but think that Quistis Trepe, RN had died, and Quistis Trepe, SeeD Rank A had been reborn. 

This sensation was new and yet familiar to her, all at once.

It was tragic that she needed the death of a dear friend to awaken her to her past self, and accept it without shame. She felt that it was now a disgrace to Squall to have denied her past for the previous four years.

She couldn't run from it any more.

This is who she was destined to be. 

»~~*~~«

Several hours later, Quistis stood in front of the Deling City Train Station. It had begun to rain, a slight sprinkle at first, but by this time it was a torrential downpour. The raindrops mingled with the salty tears that still trickled down her face. She silently thanked Hyne for her waterproof boots and impermeable raincoat; however, she cursed herself for not having an impermeable spirit. She looked up at the brightly-lit building, her pupils dilating ever so slightly.

Clutching her bags tightly, she ascended the stairs, escaping from the cold, dark city, into the light atmosphere of the Train Station. She approached the ticket-seller, a grizzled-looking old man, who coughed into his fist before handing her the ticket of her request. Her soft fingers gingerly took the ticket from the man's rough, gnarled hand, and she continued on to her designated train.

She had taken the liberty to call Daisy, when her sobs had somewhat subsided, and make sure that Seifer was released without conflict. She almost slipped and forgot to use his pseudonym, Tristan Lockheart. Daisy reported that he left with a relative; this bit of information particularly piqued her interest. 

__

I have bigger things to worry about at that moment, she thought as she boarded the train.

This was surely the most impossible series of events that had ever occurred in Quistis' life.

But she was in for more; so much more than she had ever thought possible.

It was the mere beginning of the events that would change her forever.

»~~*~~«

A/N: I got a great streak of inspiration, and I'm still riding on it. Lots more to come, I sincerely hope you're enjoying it. Thanks so much for reading. ^_^ 


End file.
